Wicked is delightful, and the current production at the Kennedy Center compelling even the most cynical among us to look past the hollow political subplots and schlocky jokes and just enjoy what’s essentially a heartfelt paean to being an outsider.

The Broadway mega-hit, with music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz and book by Winnie Holzman, is based on Gregory Maguire’s book of the same name, which filters The Wizard of Oz from the perspective of the Wicked Witch of the West. Whatever her ugly black wardrobe and entourage of sinister flying monkeys might have you believe, said Wicked Witch was once Elphaba, a neglected teenager whose father rejected her (green skin is apparently an impediment to paternal bonding), but whose scary exterior belies a tender heart and an enviable ability to perform magic.

Dee Roscioli, who has performed Elphaba more times than any other actress, is almost flawless in the role, managing to portray the character’s wounded core with just enough complexity to avoid cliché.

It’s almost impossible not to enjoy this show, with slick, seamless direction from Joe Mantello, spectacular songs, and the aura of a perennial hit. It’s wicked fun.